


Vogel

by Finian



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, M/M, Medical Procedures, Multi, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Smut, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, not really violence more like hypothetically described violence?, sexy german, this is really fun when you're learning german
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 20:31:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6392599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finian/pseuds/Finian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's a delicate little thing, isn't he? He fits right under the desk, folded away like a little doll.</p>
<p>Medic has it bad for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vogel

"For someone who is supposed to be our schnell Schatz, you really are slower than a- a shield toad, mein Vogel." The Medic's hands came to a thud on top of the paperwork that had accumulated quickly after the day's battles, and he used them to roll his chair back. Scout didn't follow like he had hoped he would, lips pulling off of his cock with a lewd, wet pop. 

"A what, doc?" Scout's voice was hoarse, lips swollen and chin covered in spit. He made quite the picture, hunched over underneath his desk in the little enclosed hollow.

"Eine Schildkröte!" His hips bucked up, trying to chase back the tight heat of his teammate's throat.

"I ain't quite followin'." Of course his younger boyfriend would have to be such an arschloch about this.

"Bitte, Scout. Schatz. Do not make me explain meinself right now." He spoke through carefully clenched teeth.

"What, can't multitask, doc?" Scout grinned, worrying at his red lips with his beautiful, beautiful teeth. Medic often found himself wanting to hold his head open and pull them out, keep them on his desk, keep the medigun trained on his little Vogel so he could do it again and again. "I've seen ya feed Archimedes with one hand and root around in Heavy's chest with the other." For all his talk, Scout did wrap a hand around his proud cock.

"Gut, mein Vogel. Meine perfeckte kleine Vogel." He moaned, hips lifting a few milimetres. His reverie was broken by Scout's voice again.

"Ya do that an awful lot. Bet it turns you on real good, wrist deep in guts. How gross." He was still smiling though, squeezing him, "Bet you like the way people squirm and scream on the table before you get the gun on them."

"Put your filthy mouth to better use, mein Junge." The older man caved, bucking his hips up in desperation. "You cannot climb under mein desk and start this and then decide it would be a better time to go slowly and prod at me about mein work, when you are the one distracting me from it!" He finally really did cave, grabbing Scout's head in his gloved hands and fucking into his throat, cock jamming against his soft palate before he angled himself, sliding down that tight wetness.

Scout was gagging around him, but made no effort to move away from the intrusion, though Medic would have pulled away in an instant if he had, instead placing his hands on Medic's knees to steady himself. He was given a moment of relief, enough to him to crawl backwards on his knees as he was shoved under the desk once more.

"Now I have gotten my paperwork out of order." He sighed, rubbing a gloved hand against his temple and shifting his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "Schatz, do get back to it." He was commanding in tone, without grabbing at Scout's head again. As much as he loved to hold his skull there and thrust into him with abandon, he really didn't want to hit his peak so soon.

Thankfully, Scout settled back into a rhythm that Medic had deemed appropriate, and the older man let out an appreciative groan as he began to sort through his paperwork once more. He loved the little wet noises the man under the desk made, his little trapped bird, gagging and drooling on his cock.

"Gut, gut, mein gott."

"Uh, doktor?" A voice came booming along, following the distinct whoosh of the airlock door, designed to keep the sand of the battlefield out of the sterile environment. Heavy was framed in white light, like an angel sent down from the heavens. A big, fat, bald angel. He knew his boyfriend would laugh at him should he ever call him that, show him up in Russian with all of his flowery, clipped syllables.

"Come in, mein Freund!" Medic laughed, trying to compose himself enough to not laugh at the sudden tensing he could feel against his knees as Scout began to freak out at the idea of being caught. Not that Heavy would be particularly upset, but he would more than likely heckle the young man about it. Besides, the idea of being caught cramped under there like some whore had Scout trying to weave a hand down to his pants to relieve some of the pressure.

"Privet, doktor. I sit?" He gestured to the chair in front of Medic's desk, less than a foot and a half away from where Scout still had a cock shoved down his throat. Medic gestured at the chair with a smooth flourish, not unlike the smooth way his birds took flight. Heavy smiled, taking a few steps up to the desk and settling his bulk down in the wooden chair. It creaked slightly underneath his weight. 

"To what do I owe this pleasure, meinen kleinen Kuchen?" Always the charmer, always one to please his big friend. He leaned forwards, reaching up to flick a stray lock of hair back into place.

"Doktor, am flattered, but am more big cake than small." Heavy chuckled, rubbing a big hand on his chest. "Have question, about small Scout." Medic reached under the desk, as if to open a drawer, but he ruffled Scout's hair instead, grabbing hold of the pen he'd tucked behind Scout's ear while he'd been actually working on filling out his paperwork earlier.

"Please, ask. Has he been getting up to trouble on the field again, the little Eichhörnchen? The ah- the squirrel." He was nonchalant, shifting his papers as if there was any rhyme or reason to their disarray. Heavy quirked an eyebrow, leaning forwards and turning his head slightly to the right.

"Small Scout came here after fighting, da?" He looked back towards the cots ove this shoulder. "Watched him come bouncing in here like little ball before you. He is okay?" He seemed all sorts of concerned for his wellbeing, and if Scout wasn't busy working on keeping quiet with a cock pressing into the back of his throat, he would have smiled at the big guy's words.

"Oh! Ja, ja. He is, as you would say, horosho. Just came in here to bother me while I worked. The little Vogel is probably gone back to his room." His words were slurring a little, and his cheeks were flushed: he was close, and he tried to pull back from Scout. If he came, Heavy would know (he wasn’t necessarily a quiet man at the best of times, let alone the worst), and Scout could tell that he was panicking, the throb against his tongue as he tensed giving the doctor away. He sucked harder, speeding up, trying to fit more and more into his mouth.

"Doktor, are feeling okay?" Heavy leaned in closer, trying to reach out with one giant hand to feel at his Medic's forehead, ever the doting mother of the relationship. Scout's eyes slid shut, throat working hard to stay relaxed as he pressed his head down on his own, wedging it between the top of the desk and the fuzzy, musky skin above Medic's cock, soft hair tickling his nose.

"Got verdammt- Scout!" He hissed, reaching down suddenly, trying to get a grip on Scout’s hair but only managing to pull his hat off. He dropped it again, hoping the message came through. "Ja, ja, I- I am fine." He breathed, collecting himself as much as possible.

"Did small Scout hurt doktor?" The larger man's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Let me take care of doktor, get first aid. Is legs?" Medic had never seen Misha work so quickly to a solution, so fast to jump to conclusions.

"No, no, simply a cramp. I am horosho, wunderbar, great." His words, not only slurred now, were breathy and quiet. Scout would have had to stifle a giggle, but instead, swallowed around Medic's throbbing prick, tongue peeking out just enough beyond his lips to touch the skin below his root. When the doctor shifted to say something else to Heavy, to assure him once more that he was great, Scout gagged, wet and violent. The only thing that tumbled from his lips, open as they had been to speak, was a desperate moan.

It took Misha about three seconds to put two and two together, after all, he’d heard that moan plenty of times; his poor English may have led the team to believe he was cognitively slower than most, and his preference to simply ignore questions did not help in that regard, but he was a smart man. A smart man who was big enough to crush you, a smart man with an expensive gun, but a smart man nonetheless. He didn't, however, count on Medic realizing that he was a smart man, and that made his next move all the better.

With all the speed that giant man could muster, he stood in shock, scattering the papers near the edge of the desk and ignoring them as they fell onto the floor.

"Doktor is hurt! Will call for help!" He didn't ask this, just bellowed it as if he were trying to alert the whole team. He knew they were in the middle of showering, on the other side of the base, and wouldn’t be able to hear him. Medic, in his jumbled state of mind, didn’t realize this and went as pale as his doves’ feathers, waving his hands frantically.

"Nein! Nein! Misha, verdammt, I am not hurt!" He pleaded, moaning through his words, and just like that, he no longer cared that Heavy- his best friend, his boyfriend, who was sure to heckle him about this for weeks- was standing there. He pulled back, taking Scout with him, and held his head still as he began fucking up into his throat again, using him like some toy, a wet hole, desperate to get off already. With Scout gagging as much as he was, the front of his shirt darker blue where his spit had run, he didn't last long.

Heavy sat back, pleased, waiting for the doctor to finish his series of beautiful, warbling moans and sighs and strings of what he assumed was the most crude German the doctor had ever spoken in the large man’s presence. He was impressed that Scout could do this. Maybe, he thought to himself with a tiny smile, he really should try small Scout’s mouth out. It would certainly shut the chatterbox up. The silence that settled after his moans and Scout's coughing fit had died down was broken with a hearty chuckle.

"Knew small Scout was here. Already checked room, and showers. Naughty doktor." He kept on chuckling, like this was the funniest joke in the world. Scout was still halfway jammed under the desk, too sheepish to stand and instead cowed over in shame. Medic was bright red, scrubbing at his face with his hands.

"Misha, I-"

"Nyet, doktor. Do not apologize. Liked show."

"Doc-" Scout started, pulling his hat off and wringing it between his wrapped hands. "Doc, listen, I'm real sorry."

"For what?" Medic moved his chair back far enough to let Scout out of his little cage. "For this? Nein, no need to be sorry." He sighed his words, "I should have never let you talk me into this, mein Vogel."

"Doktor, not be mean to small Scout. He make you happy, da? Doktor and small Scout make good love."

"Hey, big guy, don't sell yourself short." Scout quips, cracking his back as he stands, stretching. "An' I'm real sorry Doc. Not for this, just about that thing I said earlier about you gettin' off on rootin' around inside Heavy." He knew the Medic would probably strap him down and kill him for that, but it was worth it to see the dazed look on the largest man's face.

"Doktor... likes to cut chest open?" Heavy spoke slowly, choosing his words as the Medic fumed in silence, staring daggers into the Scout's aching back. Heavy was already well aware of that fact, how could you not be when your boyfriend insists on riding your cock mid-surgery. As much as he loved that kid and his mouth, the Medic very often found himself wanting to tackle him and set him back to work. "Doktor? Da? Is true?" His question hung in the air, leaving the cool room silent.

"Well, it would be untrue to say that I don't enjoy it." He finally ceded, forcing himself to look across his mussed desk to Heavy. "That is not to say I do not care deeply for you, mein Schatz. Ich liebe dich, you know that. I simply enjoy your insides as much as your outsides."

"I know. Care for doktor's insides too." Heavy smirked, leaving Medic to roll his eyes at the innuendo. "Small Scout. We teach doktor little lesson about working, da? Need to be more... what is word?" He stood, circling over to Scout as he spoke, lifting him to give him a tight hug and upon releasing it, holding him there a bit more loosely, letting him shift and reposition until he was settled like a child with his tucked into the crook of his big neck. Medic was right about one thing, he certainly was like a squirrel.

"Productive? Submissive? Fucked open on your cock and suckin' mine?" He offered, grinning. Medic wasn't mad with him, Heavy was being as doting as ever, and they would soon have the older man sandwiched between the two of them if things went his way.

"Da. Middle one. Submissive." He grinned, pressing an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to Scout's cheekbone. It was like his lips barely brushed Scout’s skin, and he realized that in that moment, he had it bad for the two older men. "You will help?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, big guy." Scout grinned wider, like his face was about to split in half- though as the thought crossed his mind, he was sure Medic would have a field day with that. Would probably try to fuck the bits of flesh hanging off of him. "You heard him, Doc. Time to get to submittin'." Medic swallowed, heart beating fast as if to remind him that yes, both of his boyfriends were here, and yes, he was about to get fucked into the ground until he couldn't remember his own name.

"Ich liebe euch beide mehr als Worte sagen kann." He breathed, standing and beginning to work on the top button of his shirt. "Nimm mach, fick mach, mach mich zu ihnen."

Scout raised a questioning eyebrow, turning his head up and sideways to catch Heavy's glance. The giant of a man was smiling down at the doctor, who was shifting his glance between the two of them as he undressed, letting his clothing fall to a crumpled pile behind his desk. Up in Heavy's arms, where he could enjoy the show, it was safe for Scout to say that getting in between these two was the best decision of his whole entire fucked up life.

"Holy shit, I think I love you two." He mumbled, "How did I get so damn freakin' lucky?" He laughed, shifting and throwing his arms around Heavy's thick neck. He didn’t think he loved them, he knew he did, he just liked to poke fun at the two of them and their casual disbelief of his affections.

"Nyet, not luck. We think, small Scout! He is cute, he follows around like sobaka, like dog. We will fuck him. Then we fall in love." Heavy rumbled another laugh. "Luck is nothing to do with it. Maybe we make doktor wait. Ya khochu k poshel na khuy. Want to make love with doktor watching. Make him want."

"I’d never say no to you, big guy." Scout grinned, leaning in to kiss him as Medic whined from his spot behind his desk, halfway between a child who had been denied a toy and a puppy that hadn’t been pet.

"Have patience, doktor." Heavy rumbled, setting Scout down on the desk, on top of the paperwork. “Is tight fit, will take time. Sit.”

\---

Hours later, well into the night, the three found themselves smushed together in Heavy's bed- Medic to the far left, Heavy to the right, and Scout nestled in between. Medic wore nothing, Heavy in boxers, and Scout had filched one of Heavy's shirts and was wearing it like a nightgown. For all their talk, Scout was the only one that night who had actually gotten fucked, first by Heavy, and then by Medic- though he was on top, in control, riding him like his life depended on it.

They had all fallen asleep without bothering to clean up, so when Scout woke first, he woke in a little puddle of sweat and- aw shit was that-? Gross. He huffed a sigh grimacing at the weird slimy feeling of an ass full of come slowly leaking down his thighs as he pulled himself to sit up. At least he could sit, he counted that as a good thing- or was that bad? Did it mean they hadn’t fucked him hard enough? He began calculating an escape route back to his own room, how to get there and hit the showers on the way down without being spotted. Heavy grunted next to him, opening an eye and reaching up to pull him back down easily.

“Sleep, small Scout. Is still dark out.” He whispered, but it was loud in the relative silence. Medic, thankfully, slept like a log most nights. “Stay here, with us. We like to wake up with you. Makes us sad when you are gone.” Misha moved Scout like a doll, holding him against his chest with a satisfied sigh, but not keeping him trapped. He could still leave if he wanted to, but he would have to make the attempt.

The two were silent for a few moments, neither of them moving save for the gentle rise and fall of their chests, before Scout spoke up.

“Misha?” He nearly squeaked the name out, not sure if the big guy would take any offense to him using his name like that. It was one thing to moan someone’s name during sex, but here, in the morning, was it alright? Was it acceptable to know someone outside of their position on the team?

“Yes, small Scout?” He leans his head down to press his nose into the younger man’s hair. “What is it?” The Scout breathed a sigh of relief, fully aware that if he really fucked up, he’d be going through respawn quicker than he could swing a bat.

Before Scout could speak again, the third man in the bed rolled over. Medic had one eye open, hair mussed from the night they'd all shared, grumbling something in tired German- most likely expressing his annoyance at being woken so early. It was cute, in a grudging sort of way, and Misha was more than used to the Doctor’s annoyance in the mornings. 

“--die Sonne gesetzt, Läufer, schlafen gehen. You too, Misha. Go back to bed.” With that, he rolled over once more, huffing. What an irritable man he was without his morning coffee.

The two men waited a few moments before returning to their conversation, sure now to be a bit more quiet.

“I jus’ wanted to say thanks.” Scout shrugged in Misha’s arms, whispering up towards his big face, “It’s uh, it gets hard to tell if this is only about sex, sometimes. Sorry.” There was an uncomfortable stretch of silence, and Scout was about ready to pry himself away and bolt towards the door when he felt the gentle vibrations of a held back laugh. He found himself chuckling too, turning and pressing his face into that warm, soft chest. “That was dumb. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, small Scout.”

“Wir lieben dich. Now, kindly halten den Mund.” A pillow flung out in their direction, landing somewhere in the darkness behind them. “Oh shoot, I missed.” The Medic added, chuckling himself. As the laughter died down between the three of them, and they all snuggled closer together, the night passed.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, this is the first tf2 fic I've ever written! Wow! It's been in the works for about a month and a half now, and still might have a few little mistakes here and there.
> 
> Also, if you notice a problem with my German, please point it out! I'm still very much learning! The little Russian I managed to squeeze in is courtesy of one of my friends here on campus who would prefer to remain anonymous and doesn't even like tf2!
> 
> There MAY be a second part, if I can bring myself to write it.
> 
> Danke!


End file.
